


Last Supper

by Dusty_Forgotten



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demon Blood Addiction, Food Porn, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-25
Updated: 2014-03-25
Packaged: 2018-01-17 00:20:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1367065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dusty_Forgotten/pseuds/Dusty_Forgotten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's tradition for Crowley to have dinner with his enemies. This is one such instance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last Supper

“I still don't understand why you're doing this...” Moose mutters, cutting his steak into tiny bits before ever taking a bite. He has some modicrum of class, at least, unlike his heathen brother.

“But you're too smart to turn down a free meal. You always were the most intelligent of your clan.”

Sam aborts his bite to set his elbows on the table (so _only_ a modicrum of civility) and points at the demon. “Don't try to flatter me. I don't know what you want here, but it’s not going to work. I'm just using you.”

Crowley cocks a brow. “Like I’m using you?”

The Winchester goes back to his meal, poking at the greens while he talks instead of actually eating them. “Whatever you gain by taking me to a fancy restaurant is fine by me...” He takes a bite immediately to prevent any further response.

"Double the cash back at restaurants?”

“Yeah, well,” he says, clamping his hand over his mouth to keep food from tumbling out before he swallows- and _there’s_ the barbarian we know and despise- “whatever it is, this is the best steak I've ever had, so the night can't be all bad.”

“It’s the sauce. Syrah reduction.”

Sam tsks, rolls his eyes, and mutters “Stuck-up, pompous millionaires...”

What Sam doesn't know is that Crowley chose this restaurant specifically for that sauce. Or, specifically because he knows (from experience) that they will put whatever you damn well please in your guest’s dish if you flash a Benjamin or two. This includes the jar of “red wine reduction” Crowley brought in for this particular occasion, which _does_ contain a strong, full-bodied syrah, along with beef stock, tomato paste, a snip of thyme, and a splash of arterial blood from a particularly problematic demon. Now the overgrown Winchester will remember what blood addiction feels like- and addiction he forced on Crowley. The demon smiles as he sips his own wine (because as preferable as scotch is, this is a wine occasion).

It’s the little pleasures.


End file.
